My mother is borderline OCD about cleanliness. I remember spending nearly every Saturday of my adolescent years cleaning bathrooms, dusting, and doing floors until three pm in the afternoon. I would be paid ten dollars and my mother would say that it wasn't clean enough, creepily remniscent of Faye Dunaway in Mommie Dearest. My mom is still this way! She has finally buckled in and hired someone to come every two weeks, much to her chagrin. She is very old-school Greek about it.

So, when I finally moved out of my parents house for college, I was able to say goodbye to the rules of their house. In college, I never had to clean the bathroom because I was able to live in the dorms and I didn't have my own kitchen. Once I moved out on my own, however, I realized that keeping my house clean really did require at least a bi-weekly cleaning.

So, in the past four months, I have probably cleaned my house eight times. I'm not a particularly messy person, but I like having my floors and stove clean, if that gives you any idea. My worst messy habit is that when I'm done drinking from a glass, I won't take it back to the kitchen. So I'll have to pick up about 20 glasses from various places in my house EVERY Saturday. It drives everyone nuts, except me, obviously.

A month ago, in what can only be described as a weird fit, I took apart the beds in my bedroom and my guest bedroom and switched them out (Yes, I still sleep on a twin--hey, I'm a poor teacher that really doesn't take that much room). After doing that, I practically cleaned the house from the floors to the attic. It was CRAZY!

The same twitch happened last night. I was about to step into bed, resplendant in my pj's, and the tick hit! I just wanted to organize and completely clean the place.

I am at work right now, and it is the only thing I can think about! Cleaning my damn house! Is this sick?

Further proof I'm going crazy and turning into my mother. However, I do doubt that I will EVER beat my child with wire hangers.